Sunday, February 23, 2014

Sometimes it’s useful to
consult a dictionary just to refresh one’s thoughts: was going to say memory,
but that would really be too much in light of what follows.

My favorite go-to dictionary
is an old Webster’s dating back to 1966. Side thought: I bet that 10% of the
words contained therein are obsolete now, if not more and that the new one
would probably contain another 10% - words brought about by the changes in technology
and time.

I digress.

In that version “memory” the
noun means “1.the power, act, or process of remembering. 2. The total of what
one remembers 3. A person, thing, happening, or act remembered…” But it’s the
one under these that I like most: “memory refers specifically to the ability or
power for retaining or reviving in the mind past thoughts, images, ideas, etc.”

I do not disagree with those
who say that animals can remember, but I do believe that the human being alone
possesses the capacity to remember on a large scale: to remember not only a
pavlovian-type response, but to also remember the why behind the response or
memory; to remember things or persons in context; to be able to put words to
memories; to write about them many years after their advent; to remember
indifferently whether good, bad or neutral (although we do fortunately bury the
bad, letting the good stay closer to the surface).

I have the memories, his
friends have the memories (one of whom called today, which is what set off this
train of thought): he would have been 79 today. I am now older than he when he
died, yet the memories make what we had memorable.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

In addition to the sad and
the bad there is the odd occasion where there are entertaining, thoughtful,
downright humorous bits sprinkled throughout.

Today’s edition was rich in
snippets of trivia (in no particular order either chronologically nor in
importance):

·Yesterday morning an Ethiopian co-pilot high jacked an
airplane headed for Rome, to Geneva where, after having to circle due to said
airport’s not being open, he landed, crawled out of the side window with a rope
and easily gave himself up, requesting asylum: unfortunately for him,
Switzerland doesn’t grant asylum to anyone having committed a crime. Oops

·Same theme: the plane was accompanied when they
entered Italian territory, first by Italian jet fighters, later by French jet
fighters: Switzerland’s jet fighters are only operative from 8 a.m. until noon
then again from 13:30 until 17:00.And
in a few months we will be voting as to whether or not to acquire new jet
fighter planes…

·ABBA – the much beloved Swedish group wore very
colorful (not to say outlandish) costumes: why? Turns out that they could
deduct the cost of said costumes, but only if they could not be worn as
everyday wear. What we won’t do to get a tax deduction.

·After the vote against “massive immigration” passed by
a narrow margin (50,3% for), others are emulating it: a recent initiative was
deposited in the canton of Ticino: 5’500 signatures to put to the vote taking
Switzerland back out of Schengen.

·A street had it’s name change from the “route of the
students” to “burnt farms” (rough translations) because 9 barns have burnt in
the sector – a mystery that has yet to be solved: perhaps the name change will
see them all burn down, then we can change it back to something like “path of
agriculture” or “no deposits”.

·Switzerland has too much salt as winter has not been
as cold as usual, solution: send 24 tons of it to Sotchi where it can be used
to keep the snow on the ground.

·And, last, but not least: there is too much arsenic in
rice crackers!

Monday, February 17, 2014

Can a truth be a platitude?
Can a platitude be a truth? Are they mutually exclusive, or mutually inclusive?

Truth, defined by Webster’s
is the quality or state of conforming with the facts or with reality. It can,
however, be an idealized abstraction as well as an actual application.

A Platitude, again as defined
by Webster’s is a remark, which is commonplace, trite, even dull, especially if
one utters it as though it were a new or novel idea.

So is Plato’s “Beauty lies in
the eyes of the beholder” truth or platitude?

Regardless of the
philosophical discussion that one can hold – and wouldn’t it have been fun to
listen to Pythagorus, Plato, Socrates or Aristotle –in the eyes of this
beholder, I have found beauty in the past 24 hours.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Remember my fat lip blog?
Today, a week later, it was time for the stitches to come out. Hadn’t worried
too much throughout the week, but conscious that “today was the day”.

Upon arrival the
nurse-receptionist (who is very bubbly and always smiling – a great thing for a
doctor’s office) installed me in one of the rooms, telling me straight away
that the doctor was running a bit behind.

I was apprehensive about the
stitches coming out as my lip had really hurt after surgery, to which she replied
that she was the one who was going to “torture” me. Not as painful as I thought
(but no, I would prefer not to have a repeat anytime within my memory).

Then I was left to relax on
the narrow examining table: closed my eyes, had my lovely warm blanket, and
with the bright light shining through my eyelids I transported myself to
Copacabana. All that was lacking was the music.

The doctor’s arrival broke
the dream, but I’ll vacation on as the lip-lump was not cancerous: the chest
mini-mole was dysplasic so return next year. Meanwhile Champagne anyone – I’m
off to my beach – at least in spirit.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

I should have known that it
was not going to be a stellar day when my local newspaper was not in my PO Box
at 9 this morning (we recently lost our post office in spite of protests, in
spite of long lines – it’s all about profit these days regardless of the
country).

There had been issues when
they were delivering from the larger post office 4 miles down the road, but our
post master had still been here to call and straighten things out: no Daniel in
sight this morning – he’s been sent off to substitute throughout the canton.

I enjoyed tea and catching up
with a friend then swung by again on my way back home: nothing (there had been
one letter however at the normal time so I figured that mail had been
delivered).

Worked awhile, did various
tasks, had lunch then mid-afternoon set off for my normal coffee. By the time I
made it to the large post office I had looked through the telephone book (no
phone numbers for any of the local branches, no phone number for any throughout
Switzerland), gone on-line where I also was not able to find one single number.
I could have opened 10 accounts, got advice on investments, bought stamps,
figured out what the postage would be for a package to Switzerland, Europe or
even internationally, same for a letter, a postcard, a piece of advertising: I
could have applied for a job and any number of other non-postage-related
topics, but NO telephone number for information of the mundane variety.

At the larger post office,
knowing that it was futile, I duly waited the 10 minutes in line, then
explained to the lady at the counter, taking care not to blame her personally.
Of course she didn’t have a clue. Turns out that there is now only one number
for “client relationships” throughout the entire country! It was too late, but
this number would supposedly allow me to ask the local postal employees who
actually deliver the mail why they hadn’t brought my paper.

Returning home I swung by the
PO Box yet again and lo and behold – not only the paper, but also letters: will
never learn why I am sure – and they call this progress.

That however was not the end
of my trials and tribulations: had purchased a piece of squash intending upon
making fresh soup. Now, normally I would take a part of it and microwave just
what I need, blending it with a hand-held blender, but I was being thrifty (and
saving time for tomorrow or whenever I end up having soup the second time) so
wanted to cook the whole thing. Over the holidays I had made red-cabbage for
one of my neighbors – taking it up in a large glass bowl that works well in the
microwave – but had never recuperated said bowl. Hmmm: had to actually get out a
pan and steam it on the stovetop. Not a problem as I have a lovely heavy-duty
blender, which I have used all of twice since I bought it 5 years ago (loaned
it to my younger son for a couple of years and he has just brought it back).Squash duly softened I scraped the meat off
the skin and put it into the blender – WITH A TOP ON. Locked things down and
pushed the button and witnessed orange soup fly all over the counter top and
anything on it.Did I learn ? Just
figured that I needed to hold the top on. Try 2 – another half the contents on
the floor, the upper cabinet doors, taking it even further onto the adjoining
window, green bin, soda maker, Nespresso machine and anything that I had missed
the first time.

For anyone who thought my
kitchen was gray and without color – I will be scraping orange from holes and
cracks and places I didn’t know existed for some time yet.

Hope that the soup is at
least good!

But that wasn't quite the end of it: whilst I was still standing there, there was a flash of light from the microwave (new last week) and it was out, the under cabinet lights were out - and nothing had been turned on at all - blown fuse, just hope it hasn't ruined the microwave.

I’m now off to sit quietly in
a chair and hope that nothing else happens before I can get into bed and stay
out of trouble for at least the night (do I need to put barriers on my bed?).

Sunday, February 9, 2014

My security “blanket” is
reading material: I can’t even drive across town without having something to
read in the car in case I get stuck in a traffic jam, or at a long stop light. If I take a flight I have to have at least two papers, a book, a couple of magazines and some Sudoku games.

This morning I took my roommate
to the train station, leaving the house with 3 pieces of reading material.
After a check on the trains and schedules we had a leisurely breakfast (and
wasn’t she a dear – said that taxi drivers were worth something – and picked up
the tab! I always love the surprise and may I never think that it is due!)
after which I had a browse in the newspaper store next door, walking out with
three more magazines or papers.

18 stop lights on the way
home but as it was Sunday, only had to stop briefly for two: never mind, I am
covered today for any down moments.

Friday I had to have surgery
for two bits of skin that potentially could have been (keeping fingers crossed)
a problem. One was a tiny crescent shaped mole on my chest – no problem and I
could care less what it looks like. The other unfortunately was part of my
lower lip.

Then I had a choice: stay in
for a couple of weeks so as not to expose others to my changed appearance and
huge, fat lip, or live life – never guess what I chose. The reactions have been
interesting: those who don’t know me of course notice nothing; those who do
automatically presume that I have fallen, yet again, and split my lip.

No bandage, just a split lip
with stitches.During surgery I was not
allowed to talk part of the time and of course had to laugh at an image in my
mind whilst the doctor was stitching up the lip. When he asked afterwards what
had been so funny, I told him: I felt like a fish that had been caught, hook,
line and sinker.

Less funny is the necessity
to not get said lip wet. Didn’t have time to make an appointment with the
hairdresser so my housemate got pulled into shampoo duty. My hair is clean – as
is the rest of the bathroom!

Somehow I don’t think this is
what we had in mind when we talk about our “adventures”.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

The original title above
refers to a French-Israelian film made in 2005 by Radu Milhaileanu: one which
explores what happens when a child is told by his mother to leave her and pass
himself off as an orphan and of another religion. He not only loses his
familial past, but also his cultural past. Of course, the mother did this as
she wanted a better life for her son than one in a refugee camp.

However, in the case of those
who choose to travel, to explore other cultures, perhaps the opposite is true.
Perhaps these people (several of my ancestors, myself) need to go, to live and
to become and can only do so by experiencing other lands, other cultures.

Chosen, it becomes a
valuable, growing experience, one that allows us to effectively become the
person that perhaps we were meant to be.

If nothing else if we all did
this for a period in our lives, wars and hatred of others based upon erroneous
beliefs would be a thing of the past. I am not saying that there would be no
more wars (although I firmly believe that there would be many less), but at
least one would be basing that war on a personal belief and not just what
“someone” else decided.

It is difficult to maintain a
distance, a hatred or a belief about someone, or some other way of living when
you actually take the time to experience it. Understanding someone else’s way
of doing things may not make one become or perform in the same way, but it will
allow the other person to continue in his own way instead of making that person
change, recognizing that we are not all the same, but that we can all live
peacefully together in spite of our differences.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

One of the perks of waking up
too early is that one has time to clean one’s fingernails!

It is always a series of
events that brings on “found” time. In the case of clean fingernails it was
eating out with the son who doesn’t drink as much water: last night I ordered
the usual bottle of water and only realized halfway through the meal that we
hadn’t drunk any of it (with son 2 we would have already re-ordered). What is
ordered needing to be paid I started drinking it and the predictable end result
was needing to get up and go to the bathroom at 5 this morning. Tried to ignore
my full bladder, unsuccessfully so had to arise at 5:45 at which point of
course one isn’t going back to sleep.

However, the positive side
was time to not only clean my fingernails but to also water all the houseplants
and tidy up various piles of papers.

This led me to the thought of
“found” time and how precious it is. “Found” time is any time for which one had
plans (i.e. sleeping in this case) that fall through creating a period of time
(and if one is extremely lucky hours or even a day) with no constraints or
schedule.

Regardless of what one
eventually fills that time with, it is always a pleasure as a perk, something
unexpected. The cancellation of an appointment in town often gains one a half
if not whole day – a day to either read, go for a walk, sort out a drawer, work
on one’s current hobby project.

It lightens the spirit to
have a planned event fall through leaving time to be enjoyed in another manner:
of course this is not true if the planned event was lunch with a friend and
they have to cancel due to the flu, even so it can be used positively and with
great pleasure.

Hmmm…. The flip side: if
there is “found” time, there must be its opposite “lost” time, but I won’t
worry about that for the moment, I was happy enough to have my “found” time
today.

Almost grateful that it didn’t
address the state of our mental and emotional worlds.

The state of “my” world: solid
and stable for the moment. Having checked Facebook and seeing that son 2 is
safely in Cuzco, Peru for some 4 months, following his trip from New York, in
all its beauty and sensitivity; knowing that I will see son 1 tonight to
celebrate (belatedly) his recent birthday; having looked out the window to see
birds at the feeder, patches of blue sky and a hint of sun on the oaks, I would
have to admit that my life is good.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Tradition: for the past
three years I have spent every night in January happily ensconced in my own bed
– a miracle for those who know how much I enjoy travelling and how often I
indulge in that love.

Habits: they say that in
order for an action to become a habit one needs to perform it at least three
times. I seem to have made a new habit (and way more than three times so it may
stick): eating my breakfast at home on Sunday mornings. And sometimes I even do
so in my pyjamas and bathrobe! The breakfast-at-home on Wednesdays (coffee shop
is shut) are a half-habit as I have been known to both stay at home or go to
another coffee shop depending upon the days’ duties.

Friends: o.k. so I keep
saying that I don’t want to make new friends – and promptly break the rule.
Most recently met a delightful lady (waiting at the bus stop as I came out of
the restaurant and I figured – correctly as it turned out – that she was on her
way to the continuing care hospital, which was right on my way. I proposed
taking her and we just never stopped talking). Exchanged e-mails, met for
coffee and what a fascinating person I would have missed had I not, on a whim,
asked if she needed a ride. Always leave room for those impromptu events, you
never know where they may lead.

Books: for some reason, all
of my friends are reading the most fascinating books currently and I have a
backlog of 5 or 6. Good to know that I am not going to run out of reading
materials any time soon!

Months: On to February
having had nothing disastrous happen in January – it’s going to be a good year.

Year: we end the 14th,
or begin the 15th year since I lost my husband and the boys their
father. We have survived.